


Nyctophobia

by Orcinus234



Series: The Aftermath [2]
Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Fixit is nice, Nyctophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcinus234/pseuds/Orcinus234
Summary: Nyctophobia is a phobia characterized by a severe fear of the dark. It is triggered by the brain's disfigured perception of what would, or could happen when in a dark environment.





	Nyctophobia

**Author's Note:**

> This one literarily came to me in a dream.

_Nyctophobia is a phobia characterized by a severe fear of the dark. It is triggered by the brain's disfigured perception of what would, or could happen when in a dark environment._

Fixit had thought it a reasonable phobia that Russell could obtain from his kidnapping. Of course he didn’t want Russell to be afraid of anything, or to have even be kidnapped in the first place. His assumption was proven true when Russell had a small panic attack when there was a black out in the scrapyard – cause curse timing – and it took a while to calm him down, even when the bots used their headlights to light up the place. There also – adding to their unlucky streak – was another storm that delayed traffic, and therefor delayed Denny’s return. He can’t fly, in a commuter plane or a jet because of the bad weather, not even with Windblade, and the roads are heavy with traffic and repair crews. And to add insult to injury, the decepticons are still causing trouble. At least one bot besides Fixit can usually stay in the scrapyard while the others go off to catch the decepticons, but there are instances where they are all needed; leaving Fixit to take care of the young boy by himself _and_ man the computer.

But it was thanks to watching the computer and looking up at the night sky to try and spot a flying decepticon that he came up with a way to solve Russell’s nyctophobia. With the idea in mind he called up Denny to get permission to arrange the whole thing. It will be a bit difficult and there are limits and obstacles that block the construction of the idea, but Fixit knows just what to do.

* * *

 

“Don’t worry about it Russell, I am right here with you,” Fixit says cheerfully.

It’s getting dark and his surprise for Russell is complete. Now he just has to show it to him. Unfortunately, the bots are all out on a hunt, so they are not here for the unveiling. Fixit has just convinced Russell to close his eyes.

“Okay,” Russell almost whispers.

There’s noticeable unease in his voice, but he mostly sounds curious.

“I thought it well to get give you – cure flies- purr tries-,” Fixit whacks his chest. “a surprise!”

“Uh, y-you didn’t have to…”

“It’s alright, I insist. But I must say that it will be a little noisy while I set-up the surprise. It will only take a moment, I promise.”

So as not to leave the boy by his lonesome for too long, Fixit rushes to the switch to turn it on. After the initial clinking of the equipment and static of electricity, the surprise is set. He rushes back to Russell’s side. If Fixit had legs, he’s pretty sure he would be bouncing with excitement at the moment, so he just settles with lightly clacking his hands together.

“Alright, open your optics – err, eyes.”

Russell opens his eyes and sees… nothing has changed, except there are dark silhouettes of some sort of wire between him and the night sky. Barely any stars are visible because of the lights of Crown City.

It’s dark. Not insanely dark, but still very dark. Russell takes an unconscious step towards Fixit, touching his elbow to Fixit’s arm.

“Lights on,” Fixit suddenly says, sounding so very excited.

In the next moment, there are tiny lights _everywhere_. So that’s what the dark lines are. Russell is speechless; or at least Fixit thinks so, judging by the human boy’s amazed expression on his faceplate, err, face.

“I noticed that due to the light pollution from the neighboring Crown City that the stars have been near invisible to an unadjusted optic- I mean, uh, the naked eye. And so I thought it a good idea to recreate the constellation map in the scrapyard. When I first started out, I admit, I,” he chuckles nervously. “-was recreating the constellations from the east Cybertron prison port, as I have come to memorize it.”

Fixit looks up at his creation. Russell still isn’t saying anything, but he does step a little away from the minicon to see more of the star map better. Fixit continues his mumbling, not entirely realizing that he is doing it.

“I made sure to build it high enough so as not to get caught or tangled on bots like Grimlock and Optimus Dime- Crime-,” whack. “Prime! Because who knows how often this will be up. I had conversed with Denny about this, as this is his territory unit, and he has given me his permission to arrange your constellations about the place.”

Russell continues to step further under the vast plethora of tiny lights, looking as if he’s counting to see how many there are. Fixit decides to follow the boy… while still explaining.

“Of course the lights can’t be on all the time, and the wires have to be packed away during the day so that Windblade can access the skies from the scrapyard or vice versa. And while the lights are mainly for the nocturnal time of the Earth day cycle, Denny has advised that it not be used, uh, excessively. He was in full support of this idea of mine, but didn’t want an increase to his electrical current unit payment.”

“Electric bill,” Russell absentmindedly corrects.

“Oh, right. Even though it doesn’t make sense, because while the parchment can be caught on a static wave length with the right friction – it doesn’t provide or collect electricity so to speak.”

Russell suddenly flinches when a small vibration noise sounds from his person, but before Fixit can say anything, the human child reaches into his pocket, taking hold of what Fixit believes to be the boy’s portable communication device – phone. Russell looks a little nervous for a second but manages to calm down, not taking his phone out of his pocket. Fixit doesn’t know what to do in this instance, so he resumes explaining, even if he’s not entirely sure what’s left to explain.

“S-so, even if it can’t be on for long periods of time, it can be up for a short time at the beginning of the night, before you go to bed. Even if you have to get up in the middle of the night for a mid-nocturne energy supply consumption you can easily have the mock constellations up and on; and if you do, the lights shouldn’t wake anyone else up as the luminosity of the lights is not to- right- might-,” whack. “-bright! And the activation is simple. To raise the wires, you simply flip the lever over there,” he says pointing to said lever. “to an upright position. To hide them away, you do the opposite. As for the lights themselves, you say ‘lights on’ to turn them on and ‘lights off’ to-.”

There’s a loud metallic thump, and in the next millisecond, the scrapyard is pitch black. Even if the lights turning off when Fixit said the key words was to be expected, Russell still jumps back, bumping into Fixit- and pushing the minicon backwards as well – and releasing a terrified and most likely unintended whimper.

“O-h oh, ahhh-,” words fail Fixit for a moment while he also freaks out for a moment. “– Lights on!”

The scrapyard lights up again, causing Fixit to readjust his optics. Russell doesn’t move away from the minicon though; he lightens the force that he exerts while pushing backwards into Fixit, but doesn’t move away.

“Sorry about that,” Fixit chuckles nervously, scratching at the back of his head. “I guess you know how to turn it off now.”

A little embarrassed and feeling a bit guilty for not knowing that saying the phrase would turn it off, Fixit starts tapping his fingers together.

“Of c-course, you don’t ever have to turn it on if you don’t want to. I-I-I just constructed it as a ‘get well’ kind of gift. Not saying that you aren’t well! You’re very cool, err, awesome! Eh, umm, I mean…”

Fixit stops talking when he feels Russell collide into him again. This time however, it’s not from fear.

It’s a hug.

Fixit is shocked at first, just stands there for a moment, while his brain module computes the information of what is happening at the moment. The hug is strong, a tight embrace, but Fixit can still identify what type of hug it is, and when he comes to the conclusion of what kind of hug it is, he smiles and hugs the human child back.

Fixit was never use “familiar physical contact”. To him and his fellow Fixit units, physical contact was reserves for information transactions and combat/detaining purposes. He never received hugs or gave them to others. It was a whole new experience to touch someone or hold someone without necessity, just simply because he wants to, but he adapted pretty well. But seeing as he still has a very technical view on just about everything, he made a study out of “the different hugs given by Russell Clay and their meanings”. This hug, is a gratitude hug, or a hug where excitement has forced the subject of study (Russell) into a state of non-audible responding function – read speechless.

Russell has hugs of fear, where he curves his posture to hide into another being. Hugs of emotional support; providing gentle but elongated contact to a being in distress. The weird side hug for “bro to bro” communication as Sideswipe had “helpfully” contributed. There are many types of other hugs that the boy gives to the bots – mostly the minicons because he can’t exactly reach the others; but this hug, this is by far Fixit’s favorite Russell Clay hug, especially when he’s on the receiving end of it.

“Thank you.”

It’s so quiet, Fixit almost misses it, but his audio receptors still pick it up.

“You are always welcome, Russell,” he hugs the boy just a tad bit tighter. “And always know that no matter where I am, I will still be there by your side. Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> updates will be long. School is requiring my attention and writer's block is a real life problem.


End file.
